


Stage of Fools

by Ann7121



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Gen, PGP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-27
Updated: 2016-04-27
Packaged: 2018-06-04 20:54:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6675124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ann7121/pseuds/Ann7121
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Avon post GP</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stage of Fools

****Howl. Howl. Howl. Howl. Oh ye are men of stone.

That's what he felt. What he said was,

"So Blake is dead. He's dead," as if dying was something Blake had done just to annoy him.

He held his impassive expression as he levered himself into sitting position - they all knew better than to offer to help him- and, without meeting anyone's gaze, he asked politely, " How?"

The consternation this provoked was surprising. Vila made a startled movement and he and Tarrant exchanged glances, an edge of panic, disbelief even, showing on their faces. Presumably they were worried that the answer might set back his recovery, though why that should be worse than the news of Blake's death he was a loss to explain.

I know when one is dead and when one lives

Aloud he said impatiently, "Come on. It's a simple enough question, Vila. How did Blake die?"

And in a voice he didn't recognise, Vila told him.

He had no memory of it. Oh later he watched the security footage. Saw what happened. What he... But why he did it, what prompted him to shoot, THAT was wiped from his brain. He could recall nothing of the emotional texture of the moment, or the physical sensation of Blake's hands clutching at his arms. He could not smell the blood that pulsed so copiously from the wounds or hear the cries and groans of his companions as they fell. On balance, he concluded that what he had been shown was the truth, especially when they took him to view what remained of Servalan and the bodies of Dayna and Soolin. So young...so young. Their deaths down to him.

Yet Edmund was beloved.

But if it was true, how to explain the Gung Ho actions of that smiling stranger, straddling Blake's body with deliberate intent? The absurdly heroic stance. The suicidal stupidity.

Except he knew, knew in all his bones, in his gut, in the pricking behind his eyes, exactly why he had hoped to die at that moment. Blake was dead, the sun had fallen and all was dark.

Look there.

For the youngsters in Blake's army, however, sadness soon gave way to the demands of living. They were excited to move to the new base on Albian. Their blood sang with the need to do. Despite himself he was warmed by their fervour; their belief that everything was possible. He found himself making the odd sarcastic comment as if by reflex when one of them proposed a particularly ambitious (and foolish) plan. This led to questions, some of which he couldn't answer, so he directed them to where he had hidden Orac and soon he was leading the whole damn rebellion.

Some good I mean to do, despite of mine own nature

He was sourly amused, as he flung himself into the fight against the Federation, to have discovered that it was his life as well as his death that was connected with his former leader.

That he had, in fact, become Blake.


End file.
